The body falls, the soul remains

The body breathes, the spirit stands

Which rose before — the soul or man?

We glimpse a world, a thin design

Are visions ours or shadows' sign?

Of nature told in whispered tone

We hold but tokens, not the throne

A simple truth beneath the din

The seeds we plant reveal within

The choices made, the will set free

Become the roots of what will be

What will come will come at will

The heart decides the path, the hill

What will come will come at will

The soul will turn, the world stands still

A Book unbound, its pages torn

The story known, yet still unborn

From rainbow hues and colors blurred

From stones unturned and songs unheard

Of doors once barred and keys now found

Of hungry mouths and bread abound

From faith kept warm and doubts held low

From steps we take and seeds we sow

Though self assailed, the One will guide

Through rooms shut tight, through nights we hide

What will come will come at will

The heart decides the path, the hill

What will come will come at will

The soul will turn, the world stands still

With sight uncommon, spirit dressed

Raiment white and oil pressed

From lands diverse the faces meet

No hand exchanged, but hearts repeat

As rider rides and hounds keep pace

We learn our place, we learn our grace

Does fate arrive like thunder's peal

Or does our choosing forge what's real?

What will come will come at will

The heart decides the path, the hill

What will come will come at will

The soul will turn, the world stands still

What will come will come at will

The quiet choice, the echo still

The soul will choose, the world stands still